


Tumour of Love

by cranky__crocus



Category: Grey's Anatomy, The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Multi, Random fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/cranky__crocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheldon is convinced he has a brain tumour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumour of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird crossover. I know I wrote it for some LJ community to gain my community points. Just a bizarre tale of Sheldon finding himself in Seattle with some well-known doctors.

            “Sheldon! We have been driving for 20 hours and you have failed to tell me in that time _why_ it was so urgent we come to Seattle!” Leonard scrambled to remove himself from the car, which proved difficult as he spent the great majority of the trip confined to his seat.

            “It was 19 and a half hours with traffic, Leonard; don’t exaggerate,” was Sheldon’s reply as he gazed up at the hospital sign and checked it against the papers he had printed out on medical rankings—both doctors and hospitals.

            Leonard concluded that it was unlikely he would get a straight answer out of Sheldon but wasn’t quite ready to give up. “Sheldon. I will ask again: Why. Are. We. Here?”

            Sheldon turned and craned his head, eyebrows migrating over his forehead in his obvious inability to discern Leonard’s motives. “I hardly think this is the proper time for philosophical debate, Leonard. I’m disappointed in you: there _is_ no proper time for philosophical debate, not for anyone with a doctorate. As Meemaw would say, leave the slop to the pigs. In this instance I am metaphorically regarding philosophy as slop, and an adequate pig would perhaps be Howard—though you are proving an apt replacement in this scenario.”

            The man stopped to consider his analogy for a moment and smiled to himself. Leonard rolled his eyes. No, no he would certainly not be getting anywhere with this. Instead he meandered into the hospital, sure in the knowledge that at _some_ point Sheldon would finish admiring the accuracy of his own analogy and follow.

 

 

The hustle and bustle of the hospital comforted Leonard. It reminded him that real, normal people _did_ exist, combatting the last day he had spent in strict confinement with Sheldon. He inadvertently stepped near the main desk.

            “Hello, how may I help?” a nurse inquired after she turned to speak with him.

            Leonard jumped and spun to face the voice that had just addressed him. He rambled a little, unsure of himself. “I have a friend outside who told me to take him here. I’m not sure why: he isn’t mortally wounded. Partially insane, maybe.”

            The nurse gave him a look but shrugged and smiled. Leonard watched as Sheldon, outside the hospital doors, at last nodded with finality and stormed into the building. He stopped short at the desk.

            “I am here to see Doctor Derek Shepherd. I have an appointment: Sheldon Cooper.”

            The nurse tapped a few keys on her keyboard and gazed at the screen. Leonard couldn’t help admiring her features—she was very fair and reminded him of a certain someone… He culled the thoughts and waited.

            “That you do,” she at last confirmed. “Floor five, right wing for neurology. Office 5R25 for Derek Shepherd’s office.”

            “Thank you, nurse.” Sheldon headed off toward the lift, leaving Leonard to speak more appropriate (and human) thanks before hurrying to keep up.

 

 

“It’s _Cristina_ , Derek! She is not just another resident, she is _family_ —the only real family I’ve got! Don’t pretend she’s farther removed from you than she is, Derek, or you’ll have one very unhappy wife.” That was a woman’s voice, heard even through the closed door. It opened to reveal a brunette surgeon, mask still tied around her neck.

            “I will remember, Meredith. This isn’t easy on anyone. I will do my best.”

            She gave him a look. “You better.”

            They hugged and she departed.

            “For the top-rated neurosurgeon, that wasn’t very professional,” Sheldon mentioned almost quietly to Leonard. Thankfully they were seated a good ways away.

            Dr Shepherd looked up from a paper he held. “Sheldon Cooper?”

 

 

“So you believe you have a brain tumour?” Dr Shepherd prompted when the two were seated and the customary greetings were through.

            “Yes,” Sheldon confirmed, sitting forward in preparation to explain his life story. Leonard was surprised by what came out of his mouth instead. “Headaches. I have had at least three a week, although that could be due to my dietary changes—I have been endeavouring to prolong my lifespan and reach the invention of brain imprinting on robotics. My life is not complete until I am a cyborg.” He paused. “Alternatively, it could be my roommate’s friends. They have certainly been known to induce headaches.”

            “Sheldon, they’re _you’re_ friends too. Under the roommate agreement, you have to interview each of my potential friends and will only except multiple visits a week if you deem them your friends as well.” Leonard grinned, rather pleased with himself for finally using the roommate agreement to his own benefit.

            Derek looked from the patient to his friend, then once more. His eyes crinkled with suspended laughter.

            Sheldon wasn’t finished. “Personality change: I have become more social in certain aspects of my life and, I regret to inform, kinder—more accommodating. Altruistic, one might say. I have also witnessed a limited degree of cognitive decline, as if I have been distracted by something in my subconscious—which I try to keep as organised as possible. Hearing problems: in some instances, I will hear only one voice and seemingly miss the others in the room. Physically, I also suffer the misfortune of feeling weak during some portions of the day. It is all disconcerting and I believe to be blamed on a brain tumour.”

            Dr Shepherd considered this a few moments and leaned back. Leonard thought he recognised the facial expression as one that was often mirrored on his own features. Dr Shepherd laced his fingers together. “Has anything changed in your life recently?”

            Sheldon was about to speak but Leonard interrupted. “He has a non-girlfriend girlfriend, depending on your point of view.”

            Derek laughed and turned to watch Leonard; it seemed the doctor had decided he was just as valuable a source for this particular patient. “When did his ‘symptoms’ begin?”

            “Around the time he met his girlfriend.”

            “But I keep saying ‘yes’ when I mean ‘no!’” Sheldon interjected. “If I were in possession of my full mental capacities, I would do no such thing!”

            Derek’s laughter rang out again. “Are these symptoms most prominent when she’s present?”

            “I would say so. Or when they’re texting, tweeting or communicating via portable robotics.”

            Leonard pulled rather a crumpled paper from his pocket and handed it to Dr Shepherd. “Sorry it’s crumpled—long car ride. That is Amy Farrah Fowler, the blind date we blackmailed him into. He is now attached.”

            “Not romantically,” Sheldon corrected. “We are intellectually matched and interested in the transfer of ideas. Conversing, as some would say. We don’t do ‘romance’, or didn’t until Penny forced us to go on a date just to make sure we would make adequate parents for our lab-created child geniuses.”

            Dr Shepherd was reading the paper and grinning. “She seems perfect; you two are well-suited. I believe I’ve reached my conclusion.”

            “I have a brain tumour,” Sheldon stated, looking simultaneously morose and self-righteous.

            “You have a crush,” Dr Shepherd announced.

            “A crush? I would think the tumour was crushing my brain, yes.”

            “No, you have a crush. A term for romantic—or sometimes platonic—feelings of admiration, respect and appreciation.”

            “You’re diagnosing me with a colloquialism? Surely semantics has no place in this diagnosis!” Sheldon was appalled. Leonard, next to him, was endlessly entertained. Sheldon added, “You didn’t run any tests! No brain scan! How can you be the best neurosurgeon on this coast and not run a simple scan?”

            “I didn’t find it necessary. However, if you have insurance and this will truly put the matter to rest, we can run a scan or two; I would be interested to see your scans anyway.”

            “That’s better.”

            Derek couldn’t help his laughter.

 

 

Sheldon was held up in the machine one room over. Leonard watched through the glass wall between them. Dr Shepherd entered the room and stood beside him.

            “Interesting man,” the doctor stated plainly. When Leonard turned, he noticed the crinkles remained around the man’s eyes and he appeared rather mirthful.

            “He is. Gives us all a headache and half for the times he’s more of a son, but we all…appreciate him anyway. Just don’t tell him. It’ll go to his over-sized, tumour-less head.”

            Derek chuckled. After a moment of companionable silence, he asked, “Did you really drive from Pasadena?”

            “I did. Thankfully Sheldon keeps a stash of cash for what he considers emergencies. This was one of them.”

            “Long highway drive. No inclination to speed?” Derek inquired, although the question seemed a little loaded; Leonard brushed it off.

            “Of course. I had the inclination to build an enhanced engine and high-tail it, but thought the police officers would frown on that. Not to mention Sheldon would probably fear it’d end in an aneurism.”

            This drew more laughter. Derek looked the man up and down, then nodded to himself. “You’re not excited for the ride back home, are you?”

            “Not particularly. Sheldon’s going to be unbearable when he discovers what he thought was a medical condition was just another human trait and proof of his fallibility.”

            “Tell you what: stay at my place. My wife is itchy to take care of everyone these days and you would make great dinner company. I think my wife’s good friend Cristina would also be interested in meeting your friend Sheldon. It wouldn’t be particularly amicable, but they would both be _interested_. And hilarious to watch.”

            Leonard smiled from ear to ear. “Nothing with Sheldon is ‘particularly amicable’. I’ll convince Sheldon somehow.”

            “Excellent. I’ll write down my address when we’re finished.” Derek turned to the myriad of screens and shook his head, grinning. “As expected, no brain tumour.”

            “Really? And here I thought his brain _was_ a tumour—on me, at least.”

 

 

And so Sheldon and Leonard spent the night in Seattle, Washington with a number of surgeons. Leonard joked with Derek Shepherd, Meredith Grey, Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the cut-throat personality of Alex Karev and was even _less_ sure what to do at the arrival of two striking women who just so happened to be romantically involved. He found he was a touch speechless through portions of the evening. (It did make him wonder briefly if Raj would be able to speak with lesbians, given there wasn’t the possibility he could get with them anyway…)

            Sheldon was anything but speechless. He and Cristina Yang argued through the majority of the evening over which reigned supreme: theoretical physics or cardiothoracic surgery. They came to no solid conclusions through their discussion but did appear to be enjoying themselves.

            Leonard noticed that the others at the table kept glancing at Cristina as she spoke; their looks grew relieved.

            “It’s the most animated we’ve seen her about her specialty in a while,” Meredith whispered to Leonard but would not explain further. Leonard didn’t need the explanation.

            Perhaps they were helping their hosts as much as the hosts were helping their guests.

            “I _do_ have my doctorate, and I was _sure_ it was a brain tumour!” Sheldon called over Cristina’s next retort. The two were apparently on to littler and lesser things.

            (“Mistaking love for a tumour—yes of _course_ you’re a doctor!”)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this odd story!


End file.
